


sanctuary

by liawrites



Category: The Witcher (TV) RPF, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Sharing a Bed, based on a prompt, thinking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liawrites/pseuds/liawrites
Summary: based on the prompt: “do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now”basically some first kiss, sweet, fluffy... drunkness.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to read and chuck some requests over on my tumblr: liawrites
> 
> enjoy lovelies x
> 
> also, i love using italics in my writing hehe

His arm is heavy, draped around your shoulders as the two of you make your way clumsily up the stairs from the inn’s bar to the room you’d paid for earlier that day. 

"We are druuuunk,” you say in a sing-songy voice after he almost trips on the back of your heel. Jaskier gives a dopey smile in response because where you think _his_ voice is the best thing since, well everything, he thinks your entire _existence_ is the best thing to... exist. 

“Understatement,” he quips as you fumble with the door. His hand reaches out to cover yours right as you finally get it. His palm is warm against the back of your hand and you clear your throat. 

“I got it...” You say eventually, and let the door swing open to prove your point.

He _almost_ kisses you, right then and there. But in the time it takes for him to think about the way he’d kissed the back of your hand the second time you’d met, or the way he’d kissed you on the forehead after you’d gotten injured fighting for _him_ , you’ve left him hanging in the doorway.

It’s more that he wants to hold you against the wall with kisses, and run his hands through your hair and just love all of you, _completely_. Instead, he finds himself staring, unblinkingly at your lips.

The room is warm enough even before your cheeks had grown rosy from the wine, which after Jaskier’s performance you’d quickly begun chasing with beer. You stumble ungracefully into the side of the bed, and Jaskier, two steps behind you laughs softly.

“Shiit,” he mumbles and rubs his brow. You nod in agreement, thinking he’s aiming that comment at the current state of both of you.

“We’re never drinking again,” you hum as you pull back the covers and begin pulling off your boots. From your place in front of him, you miss the equally red cheeks of your travel companion as you tug off your outer layers of clothing. 

He finds his voice again as you flop onto the mattress, and hug your pillow close. He wishes that it were him you were holding. 

“Well... _fair enough_ , but it was so fun, right?” 

Your eyes flash up to meet him and roll at the sight of him seemingly nervous. Jaskier is _never_ shy. Maybe it’s the fact you’re not only being nice toward him, but _sweet_. 

“Get in,” you slur, arm lagging as you gesture to the other side of the bed.

“Me? In the bed... With you, now?” You’ve never realized quite how pretty his voice is until he’s near-spluttering over your proposition. His eyebrows are raised and he’s pulling _that_ face. 

“We’ve shared a bed befor’,” You roll over with a groan to watch him round the foot of the bed, shedding his jacket and letting it drop to the floor, when he glances down at the rest of his clothing and then back at you, your face heat up again, and you pull the covers over your head, “M’not watching,” you mumble into the sheets and you swear even in the darkness, you can see him smile.

When he pulls his side of the covers back, you let yours drift back down to your shoulder and instantly rub at your _slightly_ bloodshot eyes. 

Every glance Jaskier makes at you seems far more intoxicating than all the spirits and beer and wine could ever make him. You keep your eyes on him as he settles in the bed next to you. Your dark lashes blink slowly and the scent of your delicate perfume is overwhelming - Mostly because you normally smell like horse, leather and occasionally... dirt.

“Wow, d’ya know how pretty you are up close? Like _gorgeous_. More so than any of the royal wives or daughters that I’ve sung to and they _always_ look prettier after they’ve heard me sing.” 

Again, your eyes roll and you’re _almost_ smiling, until he speaks and you realize that you are, in fact _beaming_. 

"Annnnd, that smile – Song worthy.”

You laugh, honey soft, “Stoooop, Jask...” you pull your arm out from under the covers to annunciate his name with a poke of your finger. It’s getting to _that_ point, now that you’re in bed and filled with the warmth of too much drink and the giddy feeling _he_ provides. 

Not used to it, you begin wondering if he’d be able to taste the cherry sweet alcohol on your lips if you kissed him. 

“If you smiled like that all the time, we’d have a long line of boys following us trying to _woo_ you,”

“Well, they’d not have much ov’a chance with _you_ constantly at the fron’ of the line then.” Before you have a chance to even think about what those words might mean, they just fall out of your mouth. _Fuck_. 

His eyes move from where your hand still rests on top of his arm and then to your half-lidded gaze, he gulps down nerves.

“Please tell me you feel the same right now,” 

“What? Near unconsciousness- _ness_?” you’re so done that you can hardly even pronounce unconsciousness and he smiles, eyes scrunching at the corners and you nestle a little closer. Too, too comfortable right now. 

His hand moves to rest atop yours and your eyes meet his. You can sense it, the emotions that he’s holding back. The look of _want_ and _need_. You’ve never paid such attention to the way he looks at you, pure adoration. 

For a moment in silence, you wonder what the look in your own eyes shows. Can he see _your_ feelings? Does he know how you feel right now? The jealousy you wear at the back of the bar when woman after woman approaches him with words of love and eyes that hold back no mixed signals comes back in fleeting doubt. 

You chew your lip, and this time it’s him that moves a little closer, knees bumping into yours under the covers. 

“Well that as well, I _guess_. But more, do you, you know, want to kiss _me_ as bad as I do _you_ right now?” 

Okay, you’re a little stunned and maybe your raised eyebrows do the _mixed signals_ thing but you do... want to kiss, GOD do you want that... badly.

His eyes brighten with love or humor or, a mix of them both at your expression.

“y/n...” You’re so distracted and charmed by the way your name sounds coming out his mouth that when his lips meet yours you absolutely _swear_ your heart may stop. It’s quick, and light and leaves you _yearning_ for more.

The look on his face makes you giggle, _sweetly_ and he can’t help himself. Your lashes flutter, flush against your cheeks when he rolls himself on top of you, propping himself up with hands and thighs either side of you. 

After a few beats of silence, where he looks to be trying to work out if you’re _actually_ enjoying this, your hands catch around the back of his neck, drawing him back down for another kiss. He pulls back to glance at you when your touch moves to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric in hazy, drunk passion as he kisses along your jaw. 

“Waaait,” you slur when his hand grazes your hip and you can’t help but buck against him in protest. He pauses with slightly calloused fingertips light at your waist. _His_ touch makes you dizzy.

“I want t’ remember this...” the words that tumble from your mouth feel shameful, and he places another kiss at the side of your mouth – _yes_ , he can taste the sweet wine and beer you’d been drinking. It makes him want to ignore your wishes, but instead, he lowers himself at your side. 

Your head turns to face him, unspoken words of likeness lingering between you as your eyes catch. There’s a moment of weakness, where you almost pull him back in for a _hungry_ kiss but instead, settle on resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around your figure and a bashful smile crossing his face when your fingers remain linked with his.

Those kisses and that hurried contact you shared fills you with a warmth to the depths of your bones. It feels like it would never leave you. 

_& you hope that it doesn’t._


End file.
